if your heart wears thin, i will hold you up
by thewasabipea
Summary: "I love thee with a passion put to use/In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith." Or, 100 ways in which Damon and Caroline have a forever love.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **Don't own; don't sue. Title comes from the Marianas Trench song "Beside You". Photo credit unknown.

**Summary: **"I love thee with a passion put to use/In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith." (Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Sonnet 43). Or, 100 ways in which Damon and Caroline have a forever love.

**Spoilers: **All aired episodes. Everything else is just speculation/AU.

**Author's Notes: **Decided to do the 100 prompt challenge to try and stave off writer's block. Will be posted in groups of five, as I finish writing them. Unbeta-ed. Each is un-related, unless otherwise noted. I have some writer's choice left, so if you have an idea/request, please let me know.

Posted in thanks for the _amazing _response to my other fic (my first one ever!). Thank you all!

**001. Addict**

He is addicted to her scent. Sometimes, when she's rambling on and on and he just doesn't care, he'll focus on the faint smell coming off her. He knows part of it comes from her body wash, shampoo, and conditioner (heaven forbid she get the cheap stuff; she takes her hygiene just as seriously as he does). Underneath the vanilla and the cucumber, there is just her. The barely there tinge of sweat (her fault for getting so worked up about nothing). The slightly damp smell of dead leaves and growing things, from her nearly-daily trips through the woods. And there, always present no matter what she's just done or how she's feeling, sunlight. Stefan thinks he's lost it when he says Caroline smells like sunlight, but it's true. There's something bright and warm and comforting that leaks out of her very pores. Elena just nods curiously, mentioning something about pheromones and vestigial senses, but Damon ignores it. It isn't hormones, it isn't manufactured. It's just Caroline, his personal sun.

**004. Downstairs**

Damon refuses to go downstairs. Downstairs is full of people who care too much, food that makes his stomach turn, soft, sad music that claws at his ears. Downstairs is everything he does not want to face. If he does not go there, if he stays in this room, filled with her things, with her face, with her scent, he can keep pretending. Downstairs has his brother and his beautiful other half, still smiling and walking and existing in a way that this better half will never do any more. He cannot face that. He is afraid that he will snap, rip hearts out and heads off. He is more afraid that he will not do any of that, and will instead see those sad, sad eyes and be unable to stop the tears from falling from his own. No. He will not go downstairs.

**016. Bump**

He couldn't stop running his hand over and over the bump that was her stomach. When he first started with the fascination, she thought it was cute. He had come a long way from the Damon she had first met, and she wasn't going to stand in the way of any additional softening of his usually sharp personality. Then it got annoying. He would kiss the bump before her lips, talk to the bump instead of listening to her, and pay way more attention to the bump during more amorous activities. It was driving her crazy. So every time his hand approached the bump, she'd knock it away. Usually she'd throw a glare in too, just to enforce the message. This went on into a good portion of her second trimester. It wasn't until nearly five and a half months in that she finally came to a startling realization. She had been reading on the couch, sitting next to him with her feet in his lap, when she saw it. He was staring at her bump with this look in his eyes that broke her heart and made her smile uncontrollably at the same time. There was so much in that look; reverence, hope, love, fear, desperation, pain, kindness… so many thoughts and feelings that she couldn't even name them all. Gently, she takes his hand and placed it onto the bump. That look on his face is worth it.

**026. Coffee**

Although she started drinking coffee because Stefan told her it would help her fake being human, she learns to appreciate the taste. Of course, she takes it incredibly sweet, dumping packets of sugar in without discrimination, but she feels sophisticated with the mug in her hand. It makes her feel just a little more grown up. Still, she refuses to drink the tar that Damon slurps down, black as his hair (and as bitter as his personality, she likes to snark). Her loud and vehement disgust for his drink of choice serves as a good cover when she nabs his fancy Moroccan roast and Belgium creamer.

**018. Smoke**

Roughly sixty years into being a vampire, Caroline goes through her very own dark and broody phase. Long ago reassured that her hair will continue to grow, she chops it off into (what she thinks is) a snappy pixie cut and dyes it black. She wears all black clothes and buys darker makeup. She shuns most places that she had once frequented; malls, beaches, and anywhere else that had people in a good mood. (She tries to convince herself to get a bitching tattoo, but despite her vampire healing, she chickens out. She tells people it's because tattoos are too mainstream.) She spends most of her days sitting outside a tiny, obscure coffee shop that only serves bitter espresso shots, scribbling away in a tattered notebook. She's beginning to think she's really got a handle on this image when she sees Damon out of the corner of her eye, puffing on a cigarette. He's still in the same black leather jacket, dark jeans, and classic button down. She watches the smoke gently drift out of his mouth, as if hesitant to leave such a treasured place. She keeps staring until the cigarette is a butt crushed beneath his designer shoes, scowling the whole time. When he comes over and kisses her, she feels his smoke flow into her mouth. She coughs and glares at him. "We're going shopping tomorrow," she informs him. She needs a new look.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **Don't own; don't sue. Title comes from the Marianas Trench song "Beside You". Photo credit unknown.

**Summary: **"I love thee with a passion put to use/In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith." (Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Sonnet 43). Or, 100 ways in which Damon and Caroline have a forever love.

**Spoilers: **All aired episodes. Everything else is just speculation/AU.

**Author's Notes: **Decided to do the 100 prompt challenge to try and stave off writer's block. Will be posted in groups of five, as I finish writing them. Unbeta-ed. Each is un-related, unless otherwise noted. I have some writer's choice left, so if you have an idea/request, please let me know.

Been feeling a bit down lately, so apologizes for the extra angst/darkness in these.

Thank you all for all the views, reviews, favorites, and follows. :)

**029. Moron.**

"Moron."

"Ditz."

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

"Ass!"

Damon smirks. "My best feature could never be an insult, Barbie."

Caroline tries to maintain her scowl, but it's a losing battle. She scoffs to hide her grin, and swallows any response that attempts to come out. All she can think to say is that his toned, beautiful butt is not his best feature, physical or otherwise. Physical would be a tie between his eyes, hair, or abs (so she can be a bit shallow; have you _seen_ the man?). Otherwise… she couldn't pick a favorite. The way he knows what she's feeling, even if she can't say the words. How he manages to protect her while letting her be independent at the same time. How he can insult her with nearly every word in the book, but would never say those words that once cut her to ribbons ever again. Or maybe even perhaps how he can take a silly argument and use it to make her remember that she loves him, and nothing will ever change that.

**096. First Dance (Writer's Choice: wedding dance)**

If there was one thing hadn't needed to worry about, it was the dancing. He'd learned it all, waltz, polka, you name it, clutching to his mother's waist as she sang or hummed a gentle melody. It was one of those memories he clutched selfishly to his heart. It was in the time of "pre-Stefan"; before his mother lost her strength and began to fade away, before his father saw a much more valuable child in his second son, before his own heart started to reflect the cold environment he grew up in. Her own background as a Founding Family member, (along with having an in-the-closet dad who indulged in his daughter's every princess fantasy) ensured both her incredible grace and skilled footwork, as another vampire had noticed, once upon a time. But these troubling eras are the furthest things from both their minds now. _Don't trip_, he murmurs, knowing every eye is upon them. What he is really saying is _There is only you_. _I'd be fine if you let me lead_, she retorts. What she means is _I feel safe in your arms_.

**040. Note**

He's sitting at her kitchen table, drumming his fingers in a mindless beat. They've got yet another Kill Klaus meeting going on at the boarding house, and because of the hybrid's unfortunate obsession with Blondie, he's stuck picking her up and ensuring her safety or some shit. He doesn't really agree to it, but the idea of Stefan driving anyone around still gives the rest of the group the shivers, so he doesn't have much choice. Normally he'd be prodding Blondie every five seconds to get her to hurry up, but the smell of salt on the air is still fairly strong, and he's kind of exhausted his lifetime supply of dealing with crying girls lately, so he'll let her collect her stuff at her own pace. Doesn't stop him from being bored out of his mind, though. He looks around the kitchen, not really seeing anything, until he spots a neon pink post it on the fridge.

'_Lasagna in the blue container. Salad in the green container. Love you.'_ It's scrawled in Caroline's usual messy hand, with a heart and a smile at the end. Clearly towards her mom, he guesses. His eyes trail around the rest of the kitchen.

_'Dishes are dirty. Love you.' _On the dishwasher on a blue post it.

_'Out of flour, will pick up on Tuesday. Love you.'_ Labels the lower right cabinet. He begins to wander all around the house at this point. He can't believe he hasn't noticed it before, but there are probably dozens of colorful post its all around the Forbes' household. They are all very clearly written by Caroline, messages to a mom that chooses to stay away. In each and every one of them, Caroline has written "Love you" along with a heart and smiley face. It's sweet, but it's pathetically heartbreaking at the same time. He doesn't even entertain the thought of how it reminds him of his own relationship with his father.

"Ready," a soft voice says behind him. He can still hear the catch in her throat, smell the salt on the air and the moisturizer she's used on her face to cover it up. Wordlessly, he holds his arm out to her. Her eyebrows furrow in confusion, but she takes it nonetheless. Together, they step out of the empty house and into the sunshine.

**057. Pain Relief**

Damon's smirk grew as he stared down at his canvas. He was sure to get the normal places; neck, shoulder, wrists, of course. Some of those were coming along beautifully. But it was his latest addition that really made him grin. Just above her bellybutton. A difficult place to mark without doing a lot of damage to the skin. Of course, he didn't really care how much damage he did, but he liked to think of himself as an artist. The scars that peppered Caroline's creamy skin would never fade, not completely. The shallow ones wouldn't be visible to humans in a few weeks, but the ones he really cared about… those would last forever. Or as long as he allowed her to keep breathing.

So caught up in his careful observations, he didn't notice that his latest masterpiece in the making had awoken. Only the slight sniffle alerted him to her state. He glanced up at her face. Tears streamed silently down her face and her fists were clenched in the sheets. He could hear her heart pattering away, but he didn't think it was fear that was clouding her face. He tilted his head, not quite sure if he should be doing something about the crying. It didn't really bother him, but it did confuse him a bit. Except for rare occasions, Caroline had really cut down on the crying. After a second, a chuckle escaped him. His latest bite, his beautiful mark, was delightfully deep. No doubt it was the torn muscle that was causing her pain. A girl like Caroline, she had too little fat to protect her, and those abs that she had been so proud of had shredded under his fangs like a paper. He let his fangs protrude, enjoying the whimper that escaped from a now frightened Caroline. But he was satiated and rather pleased for a change, and he swiped his teeth against his own wrist. Before Caroline could blink, he shoved it up against her mouth, forcing her to choke his blood down. Just as quickly he took his arm away. Confusion attempted to drown out the fear on her face, but Damon was too preoccupied watching his bite vanish before his eyes. He sighed. Ah well. There was always tomorrow.

**068. Sea**

He finds her by the sea. The salt makes him sneeze, the wind tosses his hair in every direction, and his shiny leather shoes sink in the sand. He hates it instantly, and tells himself he hates her for dragging him out there. It's all a lie, of course. He could never hate her, and she certainly didn't force him to be there. She never even asked or told him where she was going. She simply went. He wants to yell at her for running, snap her neck, beat the sense into her so that she'll never do something so stupid again. But he can't. Instead, he walks up behind her and carefully wraps his arms around her waist. He tucks his nose into her neck and just breathes. Her breathing doesn't change, which tells him the one thing he needed to hear: she's done running. Her hands interlace with his, and he finds he doesn't hate the sea at all. Not when it brought her back to him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **Don't own; don't sue.

**Spoilers:** General season 1 and 2 spoilers.

**Author's Note: **_just got the start wrong_ may or may not be slowing down from here on out... so here is a present to tide you over.

* * *

_part three_

**003. Crush**

As soon as she sees him from across the Grill, she knows this a man she could fall in love with. Gorgeous from head to toe, and definitely a man, not a boy still in high school. When she bumps into him and he smirks and says, "Very much," she knows that their love will be passionate and steamy (two days later, she's proven right. She doesn't have any experience to compare, really, but he's got her making sounds she's pretty sure she should be embarrassed about. She's not, 'cause every time it just makes him grin wider). Every second proves to her that this is it, this is love, none of those stupid crushes that she's had from middle school through high school. It's only after she wakes up with a stabbing pain and still wet blood on her neck that she also realizes that this love is also a tragedy.

**066. Technology**

_Bzz._

_Bzz._

_Bzz._

Sometimes he hated modern technology. Back when he was alive, you had to walk to see someone, or send a letter. You had to take time with your communication.

It's a lesson the blonde on his couch needs to learn.

Without a word, he zips over to her and grabs her phone. He'd dash it against the floor, but he knows better. He likes all his body parts where they are, thank you very much.

Caroline's mouth is open with shock, and her eyes are narrowing in fury. He has a very short time period to work with.

Gently, he tosses the phone on the opposite couch and leans over Caroline, capturing her mouth with his. Body language is a form of communication, too.

**038. Rejection**

When Elena hugs him, it feels like the end. He's made so many promises to both Elena and his brother, but this is one he has to keep. He's going to leave them alone. Let them live their lives, be in love. He won't get in the way anymore. He thinks of shutting it all off simply to ease the aching pain in his heart, but that didn't help last time, and he doubts it'll be as effective this time around.

He travels the world, drinking every blood type and booze the world has to offer (Stefan always said it would be good for him to have goals). Still, none of his new friends and experiences prepare him for what he finds in Mozambique.

Caroline Forbes.

She's on a safari; getting in touch with the spirit of the animals or some shit (he's pretty sure she's just tasting every animal on the planet; not the goal he would have set, but whatever). She's still the blonde bombshell she's always been, and now she's single.

So Damon does what he does best; flirts, smirks, and innuendos his way into her pants. Or he tries to.

She smiles back, pats him on the arm, and walks out of his life.

The rejection stings. (It tells him that he's moving on.)

**022. Voice**

Ever since she was a little girl, Caroline sang at any given opportunity. It had always been something she loved, and while her father had once encouraged dreams of becoming a pop star, her mother's practicality had won out in the end. So she saved singing for only the most important people in her life. Matt, when she thought she had lost him. Bonnie, when her Grams had died. Tyler, when he first became a werewolf and howled and sobbed through the pain. She sang during the happy times too, but those were a little harder to remember.

Sometimes, during their first relationship, Damon would compel her to simply stop talking, stop whining, stop making any noise at all. Shortly after they had broken up, she would see him and her throat would dry up, choking her voice. She never knew why, not until she died and woke up with a lot of missing pieces finally returned.

It took twelve years, four months, and sixteen days into their second relationship for her to sing to him.

(She sings Joy Division's "Love Will Tear Us Apart", muffled from the noise of the shower raining down on her. It sounds nothing like the original, and he loves her even more because of it.)

**060. Convert**

"I can't kill Thumper."

Caroline Forbes stalked into his living room, hands on her hips and an ugly scowl twisting her mouth.

"Or Bambi, or Flower, or any other woodland creature that once sang in a Disney movie!"

"Who the hell's Flower?"

"The skunk," she glared as she collapsed on the couch across from him.

He spent about three seconds looking at her with a raised eyebrow before getting up to get a drink. A strong one.

"Why is any of that my problem? Or, better question, why are you in my house?"

Caroline crossed her arms and refused to meet his eyes.

"Iwanttolearnhowtofreshfeed."

"What," Damon asked, a smirk already in place. Oh, he heard her alright, but he was going to make her say it nicely.

"I. Want. To. Learn. How. To. Fresh. Feed," she gritted out.

"Good for you," he hid his grin behind his drink. "What does it have to do with me?"

Caroline huffed a huge sigh and got off the couch. She looked towards the front door, as if she was giving up on this and ready to leave and take her chances.

"I want to learn, because animal blood just isn't doing it, and blood bags aren't always a guarantee, and I don't want to eat my entire graduating class because I didn't get breakfast, okay?" Her face softened, and she looked him in the eye. "And you may not be my first choice, but you're pretty much my only choice, and you owe me."

Damon refused to wince at that, but she was right. Instead, he allowed his smirk to return.

"I was wondering when you'd see things my way, Blondie."


End file.
